


Secrets

by MsImpala67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sam is a Tease, Teasing, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, dean loves it, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 06:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsImpala67/pseuds/MsImpala67
Summary: John Winchester has no idea what his boys do when he's not around.





	Secrets

John would be surprised (and horrified) if he knew what Sam was thinking. 

His youngest son, who he still thinks of as a little boy even though Sam is fourteen now (and most definitely not naive), is watching him pack for another hunt that he says will only last a week or two. They both know he’s lying. John looks at him and just sees his Sammy, a little moody with all that teenage blood starting to run through his veins, a little too quiet when John asks him a question. 

But John _ can’t _ see the images in Sam’s brain. Images of himself and Dean sprawled naked on the bed. Images of Dean’s face when Sam makes him come. Images of the cotton panties he stole from Wal-Mart last week. They have little cherries on them, and Dean’s gonna lose his mind when he sees Sam wearing them.  

Those images are mostly fantasy. He  _ did _ steal the panties, but he doubts he’ll have the guts to wear them, let alone show Dean. The rest is just wishful thinking. Maybe someday. Right now, Sam mostly only has the courage to flirt a little. 

And John would be surprised (and horrified) if he knew.

But John doesn’t know. 

The second the rumble of the Impala is gone, Sam’s doing everything he has the guts to do. Dean doesn’t notice when Sam sits a little closer than usual after he suggests they watch Star Wars again. And he doesn’t notice that Sam keeps bringing him a fresh beer as soon as he’s finished with the old one.

But he _ does _ notice when Sam starts sucking on a cherry sucker. His eyes go wide for just a second, and he doesn’t take them off Sammy while he lights a cigarette he stole from John and leans back on the couch. Sam has practiced this in the mirror, knows exactly what his mouth looks like as it sucks, lips all red and sticky, mouth full so that Dean can see what it would look like around his cock. 

“Since when do you like suckers?” Dean’s voice is low and a little drunk, and as dangerous as Sam’s mouth on the candy.

Sam shrugs, lets Dean hear the little pop sound as he hollows his cheeks and pulls it out. “Since now, I guess. Since when do you smoke?”

Dean smirks. “Since now, I guess.”

They stare at each other, movie forgotten. Sam mimics Dean’s smoking, sucking the candy when Dean inhales, pulling away and smacking his lips as Dean exhales. 

“Fuck.” Dean wouldn’t have said it if he wasn’t five beers in, but Sam doesn’t care. It’s his shot, and he’ll take it. 

He leans closer, hoping Dean can smell the cherry sugar on his lips, and bats his eyes the way he learned to do when he was just a baby. The way that makes Dean do anything he wants. “Show me how to smoke?”

Dean closes his eyes and spreads his legs in the seat a little. Sam can’t glance down, because if he sees that Dean is hard, he’s gonna cream his jeans right there and embarrass both of them. He keeps his eyes on Dean’s face.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean says, finally opening his eyes, and there’s a teasing determination in them. He sits up, pushing a little closer to Sam, and Sam can see the decision there in his face. “If you let me have a bit of your sucker.”

Sam’s hand is shaking as he holds the sucker out and watches Dean’s full, perfect lips close around it, taking it deep enough that they brush against Sam’s fingers on the stick. 

Sam comes. 

He doesn’t mean to, wants to cry with embarrassment even as it’s happening. But it’s  _ so good _ , right there next to Dean, his mouth touching his skin, their eyes locked, Dean thinking Sam’s as sexy as he tried to be, as sexy as he hoped to be. Sam’s cock jumps and pulses in Dean’s old jeans, and there’s a small part of Sam who knows that, despite his disappointment at ruining this too early, it was meant to be that way too, that there’s no other place he’d want to leave a mess than in Dean’s old hand-me-downs.

Dean just pulls off the sucker, tongue flicking out to lick his lips in the most obscene gesture Sam has ever witnessed in real life, and fucking winks. “Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll get you hard again.”

John, several hours and a case away, doesn’t know anything.

 

********

 

John would be surprised (and horrified) if he knew what Sam was doing under the diner table. 

He has no idea that his boys are a little disappointed in the fact that he came home early this time. Not that they aren’t happy to see him, not that they aren’t grateful the hunt turned out to be simple and easy. Just. They weren’t done being alone. 

He has no idea that while he was gone, his boys barely left the motel room. No idea that Sam still has a bruise sucked into his hip that he made Dean promise to keep there forever. No idea that Dean gave Sam his first blowjob, that Sam finally learned what all those hidden parts of Dean’s body taste like. No idea that if he had stayed gone a little while longer, Dean would have given in and fucked Sam like Sam was begging him to.

But John has no idea. Just like he has no idea that right now, across the burger and fries and onion rings, Sam is leaning back and pulling at his jeans, lowering them just enough on his hip for Dean to glance down and see little red cherries on innocent white cotton. 

Sam keeps right on eating and talking to their dad while Dean knocks his fork to the floor, then has to practically crawl under the table to get it. John rolls his eyes, but is more concerned with the ketchup that won’t come out of the bottle, doesn’t pay much attention to what Dean’s doing. 

Sam’s ready for it, and is able to hide his reaction when Dean’s hand rubs between his legs, then tugs at his belt loop to pull the jeans away from his body, getting a better look at the panties. It all takes less than fifteen seconds, but it’s one of those moments that Sam memorizes and locks away, not to be forgotten. 

Later, John goes out for the night to blow off some steam, and Dean pushes a chair under the door handle of the motel room, just to be safe. 

“Let me see ‘em.”

Sam grins and makes a show of blinking. “See what?”

Dean pounces, pinning Sam down and biting at his neck. “Goddamn tease. Dad was  _ right there _ .”

“You didn’t have to get under the table and look,” Sam says, trying to sound nonchalant, and failing miserably because there is no  _ nonchalant _ with Dean’s cock digging into his through their clothes.

“Shut the fuck up, Sammy. Just take your pants off and let me see them.”

Dean rolls over and puts his hands behind his head, relaxed and waiting, and Sam knows he’s supposed to put on a show. This is what he’s been dying for, exactly _ this, _ Dean’s eyes watching so carefully, so hungry. Sam wants Dean to see everything and know that it’s his if he wants it. 

He takes off his shirt first, skin winter-pale, muscles still soft, arms too long with his last growth spurt. Dean licks his lips. Then he takes off his jeans, fingers edging down the zipper with as much teasing as he can fit into that simple movement, letting them fall down his skinny legs, soft hairs on his thighs a little more pronounced with the goosebumps covering his skin. 

His cock is hard, trapped up against his lower stomach by the elastic band of the panties that are possibly a size too small. 

“Turn around,” Dean says, voice hard in a way Sam’s never heard, a way that makes him tremble.

Maybe Sam arches his back a little more than usual. Maybe he purposely doesn’t fix the way the panties have ridden up on one side, exposing one ass cheek. 

Dean doesn’t seem to mind. 

Without warning, there are two strong hands tugging at Sam’s hips, pushing him face down into the bed. Those hands slap down onto his ass and grab, thumbs pressing between his cheeks, and Sam can feel himself clenching up, wanting Dean’s fingers to explore just a little more.

“Not gonna fuck you, Sam. Not yet.”

“Dean…” Sam knows he’s whining, but he also knows it usually works. “Want your cock.”   
He gets Dean’s tongue instead, licking all around the edges of the cotton, teasing at the crease of his thighs. “Not yet. Not tonight.”

Sam doesn’t get fucked, but Dean  _ does _ rim him until he’s sweating and moaning and ripping the sheets. Then he lets Sam get in his lap and rub their cocks together until they come at the same time, Sam watching as it covers his stomach.

It’s not enough, but it has to be for tonight.

John doesn’t know anything.

 

********

 

John would be surprised (and horrified) if he knew where Dean and Same are right now. 

He thinks that his boys are roaming through the truck stop while he works on the Impala. It’s one of the bigger ones, with aisles and aisles filled with any trinket a trucker could ever want to make his drive a little easier, a little more convenient. Sam and Dean have always enjoyed stopping at places like this one, arguing over whether they would buy a huge piece of foam to turn the backseat into a comfortable bed, or one of the portable grills that would let them fix hamburgers on the side of the road. 

But tonight, John doesn’t know that they have no more interest in window shopping. Instead, they are locked in one of the shower stalls in the huge bathroom, the one all the way in the back corner that looks like no one ever goes there. 

Sam’s almost sixteen now, and they’ve been doing this long enough that it’s a choreographed dance. Dean’s on his knees this time, hands sliding from Sam’s thighs to his hips, and Sam will never get over the sight of his cock sinking between Dean’s lips no matter how many times it happens. He’s leaning back against the cold concrete shower wall, shoulders digging in as his hips push out and away, because he needs room to get one hand behind himself. 

Dean hums approval when Sam starts to finger himself. Thrust forward, cock against Dean’s hot, wet tongue. Thrust back, finger sinking deeper, over and over again until he can’t keep his eyes open, until his whole body is shaking. Dean opens his throat and lets him, but Sam knows he’s just biding his time. He never lets Sam take control for more than a few minutes, and Sam wants it that way. 

Sure enough, it only takes a few minutes for Dean’s fingers to reach around and clamp down over Sam’s wrist. He yanks Sam’s fingers away and replaces them with two of his own, burning as they sink dry and deep into Sam’s ass.

Sam covers his mouth with his hand, but not before he lets out a “ _ fuck, Dean _ ” that echoes off the walls. It only makes Dean move faster, makes him suck harder, makes his fingers curl right into that perfect spot inside of Sam, that spot that has Dean’s (and only Dean’s) fingerprints permanently etched onto it. 

Sam comes down Dean’s throat, opening his eyes long enough to watch Dean swallow, taking in every drop like it’s whiskey. He reaches down and tugs Dean’s hair a little, lets the violent pleasure inside of him pour out in shakes and pulls while Dean keeps moaning, like he doesn’t want it to be over.

“Shit, Dean,” Sam finally whispers, pushing himself off the wall and standing on his own as Dean gets to his feet. 

Dean crowds against Sam to kiss him back against the cold concrete and cages him in, blocks out everything except the two of them and their tongues touching. 

“Couldn’t help it. You been teasin’ me for the last hundred miles at least.”

Sam grins. “You love it.” He reaches down and palms at Dean’s cock, hard and probably painful where it’s still trapped in Dean’s blue jeans. “Let me take care of this. You wanna fuck me? I’m all open for you.”

Dean pushes his forehead against Sam’s and grinds into Sam’s hand. “Always wanna fuck you, Sammy. But we don’t have time. Gotta get back.”

“But-”

“Wanna spend the rest of the day just like this,” Dean grins. “Wanna be hard for you until tonight.” 

Sam clenches his empty hole, missing Dean’s cock, feeling wrong that it’s not pounding into him. 

“But Sammy? When we’re alone tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna get my cock so deep inside you that I can feel it in your stomach. Gonna stay there all fuckin’ night. Maybe even make you sleep with it stuffed inside you after we’re done.”

Sam nods, grabs at Dean’s shirt and pulls him in for another brutal kiss, whining and desperate like only Dean can make him. 

And then they’re leaving, Dean leading him back to the Impala where John is finishing up, asking whether they want to go ahead and grab some food now or wait until the next town.

He doesn’t know anything. 

 

********

 

John would be surprised (and horrified) if he knew that not only had Dean and Sam grown up listening to other people have sex, it’s become a competition now.

John and his sons have never talked about  _ that _ part of living in seedy motels. A lot of them are pay by the hour, and Dean and Sam have heard more than their fair share of people getting each other off in the next room. Maybe John avoided the topic whenever it came up, or maybe he’s just never really thought about it. Either way, he’s never mentioned it. 

But for Dean and Sam, it was always a normal part of life. Sam’s a few months into sixteen now, and he’s well aware that he gives those people a run for their money these days. It’s  _ him _ that the moms and dads look at from the corner of their eyes when they come out of their room in the mornings, staring at him and Dean with their scandalized, tight-lipped faces. 

But tonight, there’s a couple in the next room that have been going at it for a while, and Sam can’t help smirking over at Dean. 

Dean doesn’t have to look away from the television to know Sam’s expression. He shrugs. “Weak. She’s not even close to coming with those little moans.”

“Maybe he’s just taking his time.”

Dean settles his eyes on Sam and the whole world narrows and focuses into green. “I take my time. And I can still make you scream while I do it.”

Five minutes later, Sam’s naked on the bed, face down and ass up, waiting. He’s practically shaking and coming out of his skin, because Dean’s gonna make sure they win this competition. 

It starts with his tongue on Sam’s shoulder, Dean dragging it slowly up to the back of his neck. Sam shivers, curls his toes a little at the heat of Dean’s breath, at how he can feel Dean’s body so  _ so _ close, but Dean won’t let their skin touch. 

That tongue comes out again, starting a little lower on his back this time, traveling up his spine to his shoulder. Again, Sam drops his head and lets the sensation shiver through him, settling deep in his gut all warm and syrupy. Dean licks him again and again, going lower each time, and Sam can feel the smile in his lips. 

And then finally, when Sam’s skin is so sensitive it feels like it’s vibrating on its own, Dean licks over one of Sam’s ass cheeks. Then the other. He lets his teeth scrape, and Sam moans, loud and high, without even thinking about it. 

“See? Every bit as loud as the chick in the other room, and I’ve barely touched you.” Dean says, then dives face first into Sam’s ass. 

Sam immediately stuffs his face into a pillow and shouts against the pleasure of Dean’s tongue on his hole, because it feels like Dean’s touching every single nerve in his body, like Dean’s already inside him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

The noises next door stop for just a moment, and somewhere beneath his sweaty skin and Dean-drunk haze, Sam knows that couple is listening. It makes his cock swell a little more, painfully hard against the sheets. 

That night, Dean fucks Sam so hard that he goes hoarse, that his voice is cracking and breaking by the end, helpless and strangled noises that echo off the walls because Dean’s  _ so _ deep, because he feels too good, because his hands keep grabbing at other parts of Sam like he can’t get enough.

The couple next door starts up again, and it’s a full out battle, one Dean’s determined to win. 

John doesn’t know that while he’s killing that witch, his boys wake up an entire motel floor with their groans, with the smacking of their hips, with the cracking of the headboard when Sam pulls on one of the flimsy beams too hard. 

And when he comes home two days later, he has no idea why the woman staying in the room next to them keeps eyeing Sam whenever they pass in the parking lot. John thinks she’s just an older woman looking to feel young again, and Sam’s not a bad looking kid. 

He doesn’t know anything. 

 

********

 

John would be surprised (and horrified) if he knew how quickly Sam gets Dean’s cock in his mouth these days. 

He’s graduating high school in just under a year, and he’s starting to think about his future. It’s exciting, but it’s scary. He can’t take Dean with him, and that’s too painful for him to even start to think about. 

So instead, whenever they are alone, or mostly alone, or just out of eyesight, he’s on his knees. In the back aisle of a gas station while John pumps gas. In the Impala while John gets food inside a fast food joint. In every bed, shower, corner of every single motel room, when John’s out or using the bathroom or just in a deep sleep. 

He needs it. Needs Dean. 

Dean doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Mmmpph.” The sound is a mix of annoyance and surprise when Dean wakes up, Sam gently sucking on the head of his soft cock. 

It fattens up in Sam’s mouth and Sam drools for it, slicking it up with his spit as he licks every growing inch. 

“Fuckin’ love your cock,” he murmurs. 

“Your starting to talk like me,” Dean says, eyes still closed, rolling completely over to give Sam complete access. 

“Am not,” Sam grins. “You never say anything when you suck me off.”

Dean half-opens his eyes, grins lazy and hot. “My mouth is usually too full.”

Sam takes that as the suggestion it is and sinks down, opening his throat until it’s full of Dean, thick and throbbing and cutting off his air supply. Sam wants to choke on it. 

Dean starts to thrust up, just a little, just enough for his hips to say  _ don’t move Sammy, just let me _ . He fucks Sam’s throat slow and easy, hands drifting down to tangle in his hair, caressing him as much as holding him still. Sam blinks his eyes slowly and keeps his tongue soft and wet for his big brother, resting his hands on Dean’s thick, strong thighs. 

“Use your hands, Sammy,” Dean murmurs, cheeks starting to flush as his skin heats up. 

Sam obeys instantly. He runs one hand to cup Dean’s balls, to roll and gently pull them while Dean keeps thrusting, hands twisting in the sheets now.  He comes hot and thick and bitter down Sam’s throat just a few minutes later, gasping Sam’s name and arching his whole body up as his muscles clench and release.

Sam feels just as satisfied as Dean looks. Doesn’t matter that his dick is still throbbing hard enough to cut diamonds and his hole is clenching around a lonely emptiness. Doesn’t matter that his blood feels like it’s boiling. His body will catch up and calm down. But his mind is already there, hazy and strung out like he’s the one who came, because nothing makes him more high than the taste of Dean’s come and the sound of his breathing as he comes down.

John comes back to the motel about twenty minutes later t, dropping a greasy fast food breakfast on the table, to find Sam reading while Dean watches some old action movie. He doesn’t look close enough to see that Sam’s lips are a little swollen and Dean’s hips are a little loose when he gets up for a soda. 

John doesn’t see the details in anything but his hunts, so he doesn’t know that his youngest son lives for having his mouth full. 

He doesn’t know anything. 

 

********

 

John would be surprised (and horrified) if he knew why Dean was stopping in the candy aisle to look at some cherry suckers. 

Sam watches Dean pretend to look at some chocolate candy bars as well, giving the impression that he simply wants a sweet snack, but his fingers drift over the suckers when John isn’t looking.

Sam sees, because Sam is never not looking at Dean. 

John isn’t going anywhere tonight, and the motel room waiting for them is particularly small. Sam and Dean will have to share a full-sized bed, will have to press their bodies together if they don’t want to hang off the edge, and Sam isn’t sure if he’s excited or frustrated. 

Dean sneaks a huge, round, cherry sucker into his pocket.

Excited. Sam’s definitely excited.

When John’s been snoring for a while, Sam opens his mouth as his big brother fills it full of candy, thrusts the sucker in and out over his tongue, watches as his lips go sticky and his chin gets wet. Sam swears the look Dean’s giving him could set the bed on fire, and he digs his fingernails into his own palms to stop from reaching out for him, to stop from spreading his own ass open and offering it up.

But that’s it. That’s all they do. Dean fucks Sam’s mouth with the sucker as their cocks rest together under the blankets, fat and heavy, and then they go to sleep. 

It’s too risky to do anything else. 

John keeps snoring, and he doesn’t know what’s going on just a few feet away from him. 

He knows nothing, but there are moments when Sam knows that even if he did, even if the worst happened and he found them out, if he knew  _ everything _ \- it wouldn’t matter. Wouldn’t change a single thing.

Sam’s not going to let John know anything if he can help it. But nothing, absolutely  _ nothing _ , is going to make him stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is my lifeblood! XOXO


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